


joshler drabbles

by hadequate (wobblesome)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Drabble Collection, Frottage, M/M, Schmoop, pure tooth-rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24923662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wobblesome/pseuds/hadequate
Summary: does what it says on the tin
Relationships: Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph
Comments: 18
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even fancy myself a writer y'all. but my friend said "put those on ao3" so, okay.

Josh wraps himself around Tyler, arms and legs tangled together. He presses his nose into Tyler's neck.

Tyler wriggles a little experimentally from his prone position on the couch. He's pinned pretty good, wrapped up in a Josh-burrito. He considers.

"What are we doing?" he asks with patient curiosity.

"Bein' bros," comes a mumble from the area of his collar bone.

"Ah."

"That okay?"

Instead of answering, Tyler begins to run his hands in soothing circles up and down Josh's back. Before long, Tyler realizes he is pinned immovably under 170 lbs of lean, muscled, _sleeping_ drummer. Which is heavy.

Debby wanders in, toweling off her hair from a shower. Tyler raises his eyebrows at her.

She shrugs. "We were going to go for a run but he missed you. So I went for a run." Then, a little more softly, "He has missed you."

Tyler feels his heart do a thing. He clasps his hands around Josh's back.

"Thanks for bringing him, Deb. I'm glad you guys are here."

Debby smiles, and pads off.


	2. Chapter 2

Tyler taps the spacebar sharply with one finger, looking at Josh over his shoulder as he does so.

"That's it. What do you think?"

Josh can't help but think he's  _ lucky _ . "It's gonna be sick. Loop the bridge again." Tyler's head dips in a nod and he complies. 

Josh can feel the spot this fills on the setlist; the shape of something they haven't  _ quite _ done before. He leans forward from behind tyler's chair and plants a kiss on top of his head. Tyler's cheeks go faintly pink. Message received: approval. 

That's all they'll talk about it for now. Jenna is upstairs making dinner as Debby watches, rapt, the same way Josh watches Tyler weave together strings and synth and verb.

Josh goes upstairs first. Tyler wanders up after, looking worn but satisfied with the day's work. Jenna takes one look at him, down at her flour covered hands, and then to Debby and Josh. "Could you two--?"

They grin, and attack Tyler at the same time, peppering his face with kisses while he complains. After, though, he has his dopey smile on, the one that knows he's loved by all his people.

Dinner is amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

Josh thinks most people don't give it a second thought beyond the half a second it takes to make a "haha gay" joke. But it's intimate. Not necessarily sexual, mind you, not really romantic, probably, but it's intimate. The way he casually throws an arm behind Tyler on a couch, and tyler's body leans into it; the way just the bony angle of their bare knees will touch through ripped jeans.

Spend a little time with just your bare arm touching a friend's. Count the seconds before one of you pulls away. Josh and Tyler, they don't pull away. It's a wonder no one calls them on it, honestly.

Josh's mother says they're "in each other's orbit" with a smile; Josh's father says they're in each other's pockets with something like a grimace. Josh thinks they are like magnets: of course they snap together. It's just in the way they're made, the way nature intended. 

Today they're doing meet and greets and Tyler will sling his arm around a lucky fan and grope for Josh's hand behind their back. Tyler loves their fans. He doesn't really want to touch them, though. Josh gets it. He sticks his hand back blindly while leaning into his allotted photo companion, smiling for the camera, and Tyler grabs it. 

It's part ridiculous game for Tyler - because eventually they're going to get caught - but Josh knows part of it keeps him from making a beeline for the door, too. So Josh squeezes his hand, an "I'm here," as many times as Tyler needs. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here.


	4. Chapter 4

The interviewer leans forward in his chair. His cologne is too loud. His face is too loud, Josh thinks.

“So,” he says. “Tell me about the guy who writes the letters.”

Josh can feel Tyler tense beside him. They’re not sitting plastered side to side like they used to, but it’s not that kind of feeling. He just knows.

“We know about him,” Josh says says simply.

“Tell me about him,” counters the guy. Josh thinks his name is Dave. Josh thinks Dave did his research before his allotted ten minute slot, which he gets points for, but also thinks Dave read the blacklist before the interview and read the neatly typed ᴄʟᴀɴᴄʏ -- things you’re not allowed to ask about. Dave is circumventing the blacklist by not saying ᴄʟᴀɴᴄʏ directly..

That’s not really respecting the spirit of the thing. 

“We’ll pass,” Josh replies. Tyler’s posture indicates approval. He hasn’t moved, but Josh knows.

Dave’s face goes blank for a fraction of a second. “Okay,” he says brightly, hiding his disappointment, game-show-host. “I’ve read that you guys love Death Cab For Cutie. Great choice! Which song on Trench would you say really draws most from their influence?”

Tyler sniffs loudly, brushes the side of his index finger along his upper lip; Josh’s arm slides down the back of the couch reflexively, bracketing tyler’s shoulders subtly. 

“We’ll pass,” Josh says breezily.

“Come on gentlemen! Give the fans at home  _ something _ . Let’s look at the artistic side. You’re artistic types. So far, your album covers have been blue, red, and yellow. What’s next? Green? Rainbow sparkles?” He lets out a bark of a laugh.

Josh and Tyler exchange a look, Tyler’s eyebrows shot up critically.  _ What has he been reading? _

“No worries boys,” he pushes on, “We’ll hit on something. Josh,” he says, sticking his hand out blindly for his cameraman to pass him a piece of paper from the table behind him.

“Josh. You’re engaged to the beautiful” -- he reads the paper -- “Debby Ryan. Real spitfire! Lovely girl. Last year she starred on a controversial--” 

Tyler’s right hand lands on Josh’s left knee audibly. He sits up in his seat suddenly. “Dave,” he says. “It was Dave, wasn’t it?”

Josh knows what’s coming. He lets his arm move from the back of the couch to rest on Tyler’s back.  _ Go on, then _ . Tyler’s hand inches up his leg a little.

“You wanna know what the next album is?” says Tyler. ”It’s green, man, good call.” Josh looks at Dave too and nods politely.

This time Dave’s eyebrows shoot up. They fall on Tyler’s hand. He continues.

“The next album is called  _ Edge _ . Right now it is. It follows the guy who writes the letters as his story evolves into the same one as Tyler’s.” Tyler leans forward confidentially. “I can’t say his name because that’s blacklisted.”

Dave looks excitedly, stupidly, at the cameraman,  _ are you getting this _ ?

“You see,” he continues, “You can’t just get to the other side of Trench by accident. You have to do the work. You have to grow. We’re going to a series of music videos that use subtle black light to show the character of Clancy identifying the Vialist things in his life that need to change. It’s sort of a how-to guide for our fans.” Josh rubs small absent circles on Tyler’s back. Dave’s eyes fall on Tyler’s hand on Josh’s thigh again, higher still. He squints like he might not be seeing right.

Dave sits back in his chair somewhat suddenly. “You guys wouldn’t tell me this. I know you have a--ah--reputation for being a couple of jokesters.”

Tyler tilts his head contemplatively. Josh does too.

“Well,” he says. “Maybe we shouldn’t. You’re right. It’s too soon--”

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“It’s all true,” Josh says, honest. He smiles in case it helps.

“Zack, cut. Cut the camera.” Dave stands up and sticks out his hand. “Very good, gentlemen, I’m sure the magazine will love this. We can craft this into something. You know those editing wizards. Can make anything into anything. Throw some music over top of it in the right spots. An insert between every sentence like MTV.” He’s rambling, looking through both of them, sweating dollar signs.

Josh shakes his hand. Tyler declines. “Thanks for your time bro. Good seein’ ya,” he lies.

Dave knocks sharply at the door, which is opened promptly by a stressed-looking blonde associate. “That was only a few minutes,” she says. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” says Dave, shepherding her out the door, Zack clattering behind.

Josh looks at Tyler. Tyler looks at Josh. Josh smirks.

____

Loafing through the arena’s bus bay, they catch a snatch of conversation, two people on the way to the same exit.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It’s the voice of the blond assistant.

“I’m telling you, he had his arm around him--”

“--men can  _ show affection _ , Dave--”

“- _ -On his thigh _ \--”

Tyler smirks.

\-------

Two days later, Josh, Tyler and Mark are gathered around one of the shitty little bus booth tables. Tim from the label is on speaker phone.

“Green in the context of a next album,” says Tim tiredly. 

“Yep,” says Tyler. He tries to sound contrite.

“The title _ Edge _ . You know there’s a press embargo on these words Tyler. You know because you filed them last month.”

“Yeah,” says Josh. He tries to sound contrite too, in case it helps. 

“They can’t use any of this.”

“Bummer,” says Josh, as Tyler says “Darn.”

“Gosh,” adds Mark.

Tim sighs.

“Hey,” Tyler says after a moment, an idea. “Tim. Add something to the embargo list. Rainbow sparkles.”


	5. Chapter 5

The show ended a couple hours ago, and Josh's post-show ritual of lying on the floor with a candle lit listening to Sigur Ros should long be over, but Jenna and Debby went out to some 24 hour vegan restaurant and the crew dispersed promptly, tucking into bunks early before a blessed day off.

Josh presses his cheek against Tyler's, just to feel the soft skin and scratch of stubble. They're high off their asses.

Tyler giggles. He's jiggling his foot back and forth.

"I wish I could feel what it feels like to do that, but like, not be me," he says. He sighs and hums a bar of some snatch of song running through his head.

Josh rolls away from him, molasses, landing flat on his back.

"I wish," says Josh, "that," he struggles a little, "that I could drink your voice."

Tyler stops jiggling his foot.

After a few long, liquid moments, he rolls up on an elbow. He looks at Josh, considering. He inches closer until his face is hovering a breath above Josh's. "Open your mouth," he says.

Open your mouth. With the easy confidence of someone who's drawn an obvious conclusion while high as a kite. That's it, just, "open your mouth."

Josh opens his mouth a fraction, eyes half-lidded, cheeks warm.

Tyler doesn't close the gap between them, only gets impossibly closer, so that his lips brush over Josh's with each word he softly sings. _Cut me farther...than I've ever been._

Josh does the logical thing, and swallows.

"Thank you?" he tries.

Tyler plants his face in Josh's stomach, fisting his hands up in his hoodie, and laughs and laughs. Josh gets a hand in his hair and feels him silently shaking until it subsides. When the high burns off and they doze off, their candle goes out.


	6. rated R for reader please be aware i don't know how to change the rating

_ “Remember when we busted into their hotel room? Some promoter got us a hotel, the first hotel that either of us had ever been in, cause we were sleeping in the van or trying to go home in between shows...and so this other band was in their own room. So we had two rooms between two bands. We got the better end of the deal because they had like six guys. We knew they were next door so we knock on the door and open it up and bust in and we jump on their beds and we’re going nuts...and all we had on was our skeleton hoodies zipped up and nothing else.” _

Tyler and Josh and their bare asses make haste out of the hotel room, hands cupping their fronts, chased by the horrified yells of  _ Farewell Fighter _ . A pillow is thrown out the door after them just before it slams shut. They hustle back into their room wheezing, tears streaming down their faces.

“Did you--did you hear when Donnie realized--” Tyler breaks off, shaking with laughter.

Josh nods vigorously, supporting himself on the nightstand. “‘Get that out of my face Dun, or I’ll bite it off.’” 

“I think he actually opened his mouth.” Tyler collapses onto the bed, overwhelmed. Josh kicks his way back into his boxer briefs and throws Tyler his from the floor. 

“Jared slapped my ass.” 

“I heard that. That sounded like it stung.”

“It  _ did _ , dude.”

They both sigh a final-sounding sort of sigh and kick back on the bed. That’s when Josh realizes properly: they have  _ one _ bed. 

“It’s not weird, is it?” He gestures expansively.

Tyler looks around them at the king-sized bed they’re sprawled on. He snorts.

“Dude we’ve slept so close in that sardine van I can tell what’s in your pockets.” He rolls onto his stomach and waggles his eyebrows. “What are you suggesting?”

Josh scoffs and turns just a little red. “Shut up.” 

Tyler casts off his skeleton hoodie and it occurs to Josh to do the same. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that he and Tyler are around each other in nothing but boxer-briefs a lot more than most situations would seem to warrant, but this is bed, and it makes sense, so he ignores it. 

There's a few minutes on their respective sides of the bed as they check their phones. Finally, Josh gets up to turn off the light.

Tyler makes a small noise. 

Josh flicks the light back on.

Tyler is looking up at him gratefully from the far side of the bed. Josh sighs. 

"Dude, I can't sleep with the light on."

"I can't sleep with it off," Tyler replies coolly, like he's not admitting to being afraid of the dark.

Experimentally, Josh flicks the light back off. Tyler huffs in disbelief. Some quick mental math is in order: Josh needs to drive the van tomorrow which means Josh needs to sleep. Tyler needs to charm the pants off a single interested local radio station tomorrow, which means Tyler needs to sleep. 

Something isn't adding up. 

They certainly can't leave the overhead light on in the van all night, and they never do. But Tyler sleeps there.

_ We've slept so close in that sardine van I can tell what's in your pockets _ . 

Oh.

"Just let me try something." 

He leaves the light off and slides under the covers, then shimmies his way toward the middle of the bed so that his arm and leg are pressed against Tyler's. 

"What are you doing?" Tyler says critically. It actually kind of feels nice with the hotel's AC on full blast. 

"Just go to sleep man." 

Tyler gives him what's probably a mutinous look in the dark and shoves down under the covers, limbs brushing against limbs.

As Josh begins to doze off, he feels him burrow into his side, as expected. The feeling is different on a hotel bed where he can spread his limbs out, so Josh does, temporarily dislodging Tyler before he wraps an arm around him and tugs him up close. 

Tyler must be half asleep himself, because he sighs a loud, contented sigh, tangles his legs with Josh's, and melts into stillness. Josh's cheeks heat up just a little.

He wakes once in the middle of the night to go pee, and when he steps back out is blinded by the bedside lamp. Tyler appears to sleep peacefully, still stretched towards it from when he reached to turn it on. 

Josh turns it off with a decisive clack of the switch and glides back under the covers. He's too tired to think much of it when he simply arranges Tyler's warm limbs back around himself under the blanket and goes to sleep.

-

The first thing Josh notices is heat, followed by damp. He's sweating, he can't stay still. His hips move of their own accord. Synapses avalanche back into functionality. He's definitely dry-humping his best friend. His best friend, who has one hand cupped firmly around one of Josh's ass cheeks, encouraging him to keep his rhythm. His best friend, who is panting hotly into his neck. 

Tyler shifts so Josh is rubbing directly against his own hard on so that they both gasp. Tyler is reaching down between them and Josh is sure his vision will white out but it's only to pull down his boxer-briefs. He pauses. "Is this okay?" Josh nods hurriedly. 

Josh breaks contact to kick off his own underwear, and rolls back toward Tyler, effectively landing on top of him. There's a moment, too long, where reality starts to settle back in, but Josh doesn't let it, screwing his eyes shut and burying his face in the crook of Tyler's neck.

He picks his rhythm back up and Tyler's hands land back on his ass, only now instead of panting Tyler's making faint, delicious noises. Just a few vowels up and over an 'h' sound, but it's like he can't keep them in and Josh's hips snap faster. Sweat and precum between them make for slick movement. "Tyler," Josh says, and it's wrecked. 

The intensity between them brims over, one after the other.

They catch their breath in the heavy air.

Josh rolls off Tyler. After a moment, he turns his head slowly, afraid of what he'll see. 

"Dude," croaks Tyler. 

Josh nods. 

"Dude," he tries again. "We need to shower."

Josh sighs in relief. "Yeah we do."

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Tyler wriggles his hands up under Josh's shirt, who squirms uncontrollably. "Calm down," says Tyler, "my hands are cold."

They're wrapped up together on a couch in a waiting area for an interview. They shouldn't be. But they'd arrived in New York around 8 am, which was basically 3 am for them, and coffee hadn't helped Josh anymore than Red Bull had helped Tyler.

Josh feels his consciousness go soft around the edges. There's a pillowy stuffiness to his hearing, everything an echo in the hipster upholstered room. He feels Tyler snake his arms tighter around his rib cage, and it's like a Pavlovian effect. Go to sleep. So he does.

"-don't know why we can't just leave them like this. Look at them. It's the saddest thing I've ever seen. Look how sweet. Has anyone been feeding these boys?"

Mark looks over his clipboard blankly. "No, ma'am, we eat cereal on the bus and feed them the boxes."

"We'll, they're on in five. Tell them it's MTV and see if they want to come on. If they don't I'll make sure we refund you your time and get them a blanket." 

Mark nods and waits til the lady leaves. He kicks Tyler soundly in the back of the thigh. "Rise and shine baby boy."

Josh groans.


End file.
